Stay
by Jiara Anatalis
Summary: BaoDur is saddened that his General doesn't seem to recognize him. Does anyone else feel like the Zabrak got shortchanged with that horrible game intro? This tries to fill in the gaps. Rated teen for some mild sexual content in the third chapter.
1. Chapter 1

I know, sorry this isn't the next chapter of my story that has been on hold for WAY too long, but I am getting back to writing at least! Something new, a K2 story that gives some background for Bao-Dur and the Exile. His shoddy in-game introduction always bugged me, so I came up with this 3-part fic to possibly explain away why she is confused at not remembering him, and why he is so rightfully hurt by it.

* * *

The hitch in her step was embarrassingly noticeable, as was the stiff over-correction. But her stride had carried her too far into the room for her to turn back. That and he saw her. He always saw her, always looking, searching, for something…something she just didn't have to offer.

"General?" His smooth baritone floated calmly around her, contrasted sharply by the animated chiming of his Remote.

"I, uh, I'm sorry to disturb you, Bao-Dur. I didn't realize you were working in here." Why _was _he in the nav room? He usually kept to the garage, which is why she usually kept from it.

"I heard about your little problem with this locked nav-computer, thought I might see what I could do about it for you."

Her shoulders sunk a bit. He seemed to be trying too hard, like a puppy, to please her, but his efforts made her even more uncomfortable in his presence. She couldn't even look at him. "Oh, well, thank-you, but Kreia said she knows how to unlock it."

"I do too," he offered back.

Her head snapped up to look at him now, the previous unease melted away. "How…what does it say?" She moved closer to look at the monitor in front of him.

"I said I know how to unlock it, not that I could, and I doubt Kreia can either. This system has been voice-locked, and there are some deep subroutines installed on the information. They are very simple commands, nothing complicated at all, but they cannot be overridden."

"Why not?"

"The initial protocol states simply any attempt to access the sealed info that does not use the voice activation to unlock the files will result in a total core dump."

"Oh," she said softly, the small spark of hope fading as once again the discomfort of being near to a man she should recall but couldn't washed over her. Her only thought now was to get out of there, quickly.

"Yes, I must admit it is quite a nice job of programming," he said admiringly. "Even if the threat is untrue, it is sufficient enough to keep anyone from attempting to poke around for fear of losing the files. I believe I will install a similar routine in my Remote." The unit beeped and hovered closer to him in response.

"Well, thanks, for trying, that was…really nice of you to think of it," she said as she began to back towards the door. "I guess I'll just go, um, do what I was doing."

"Where were you headed?"

"The cockpit," she lied, the only thing coming to her mind. "I wanted to ask Atton what he knew about Nar Shaddaa since we are headed there. I'd like to know what to expect." _That wasn't a total lie, it was a pretty good idea, actually_, she thought as she neared the door.

"He isn't there. Said he needed a nap."

"What!? Who is flying the ship?!" she said spinning back around.

"The astromech droid is up there monitoring the controls," he said as if it were the most ordinary thing.

"T3 is flying the ship? Is that…safe?"

"We are in a programmed hyperspace route, nothing to do anyway. Besides, I'd say the droid pilots better than the pazaak player…hasn't crashed the ship yet. Atton's got two strikes against him on Telos alone—he do that often?"

She smiled. "I hope not."

The Zabrak's expression clouded a bit, a mixture of confusion and concern. "You don't know?"

"I only just met him, really," she said with a shrug.

"I see, General," he said softly, turning his face away. But not before she got a glimpse of the pain in his eyes. "It's just, you spend so much time with him, I thought you knew him…better."

Her heart lurched, realizing the mistake and implication of her words. Her attempts to keep from hurting him ended up causing more pain than if she had just admitted, shamefully, that she simply could not remember who he was. "Bao-Dur, I…"

"I was thinking, General," he said quickly, cutting her off. His attention remained on the controls, his back turned towards her—but she could see the defeat in his posture as his shoulders rolled forward. There was no mistaking the disappointment in his tone, or the Force, as it leaked from him, bitterness and melancholy all rolled together. "I think when we get to Nar Shaddaa, I will strike out on my own for a while. Always wanted to see what makes that place tick."

"Bao, no!" she blurted, surprised that the thought of him leaving hit her so deeply. He turned to look at her, his face infuriatingly placid.

"It's okay, General, I understand. It was good to meet up with you again and learn you are well. But I know you wanted to put the war behind you, and seeing me must bring up bad memories." He winced as he spoke, heartache spiking from him and slicing through her.

"No, that's…" she sighed, then walked across the room, throwing herself into the seat next to him. "Actually, the truth is, seeing you has not brought up any memories, good or bad." She was almost afraid to look at him, but she couldn't block his emotions. She expected anger and disappointment, but instead, there was sadness…and relief?

"You don't remember me…at all?" His words were almost a desperate plea, wounded pride seeping through the Force.

"I am sorry, but no. I did not want to hurt you by letting you know, so I tried to stay away, hoping you wouldn't realize. But it seems I made things just as bad, if not worse."

"You were avoiding me so I wouldn't find out you forgot about me? Not because…"

"It wasn't just you, Bao!" she blurted before he could finish. "When you said we served together, I could not place you at all, so I went into my service records—I saw you listed, and every other soldier under my command. Each one was a blank, as if I were seeing the names for the first time." She looked around the room as she paused to compose her emotions. "Until meeting up with you again, I had not realized how faulty my memory had become. When I was exiled, there was no one to talk to about the war, and it wasn't something I wanted to dwell upon, so it never occurred to me that giant chunks of information were gone. I know Revan and Malak convinced me to join them, I know I fought, I know what battles I was in…but details are missing. What Revan told me that made me go with them, how the fighting went, the name of my ship, the names of my company, the friends I made, the ones I mourned…." Her voice trailed to a soft whisper.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Kreia thinks I turned away from the Force by choice. Hardly. I lost everything—my memories, my training, my sense of the Force—why the hell would I willingly give that up? And then, the Council exiled me, tossed me out, never even asked a single question of me, just sat there, spitting accusations. Now THAT day I can recall clearly. I stood before them, my head still ringing from the final battle, the Force strangely absent from me. I couldn't think, I couldn't sense anything but anger—at losing my way, and they wouldn't help. They didn't even care."

"You are doing okay now?" he asked, his concern deep and genuine. "I mean, your memory…you can recall everything after the war?"

"Yes, isn't that odd? I hope that means the damage is reversible. I don't know what happened, or when, or even how I lost it all. But Kreia is helping me. She seems to know how to return the Force to my mind, and I am feeling it again, like an old friend." She then smiled at him "I hope, as I regain my connection to the Force, I regain other old friends."

It was now he who turned away, unable to look at her. Guilt and sorrow flooded her senses. Remote beeped as it circled around its master, the only sound in the room.

"Bao, what is it?"

"I know what happened, General. I know what broke you, and I am sorry. I have been sorry for ten years, but never more than right now."

"What? You think you caused this? I doubt that, how could you possibly…"

"Malachor V, General," he said flatly, but somehow, there was poison in his voice, bitter and angry.

"You were at Malachor?" She realized the stupidity of that question as she spoke the words.

"We all were, General. Many of us are still there." He lifted his mechanical arm, the soft blue of the energy beam casting shadows on the wall. "Souvenir of Malachor V. I was one of the lucky ones. Pretty ironic, since I deserved it the least."

"I don't know what you think you did, but really, Bao, I don't blame you," she said soothingly.

"You don't blame me only because you can't remember. I did this to you, to everyone. I don't know which is worse—the actual killing, or what happened to those who survived, if you can call it that. And they wanted to give me a medal for it, too," he scoffed.

"For what? What happened at Malachor? Tell me." She was eager to hear more, edging closer to him in her seat. There was something about what he said that struck her as almost familiar. But her attempts to grasp the tendril of revived memory were futile.

He shook his head. "Be glad you can't remember, General. I've thought about it every day for a decade, enough for the both of us. I envy your unpolluted memory."

"No, Bao, please, tell me what happened that day. The battle, I need to know. It might spark something in my mind, help me overcome what was done to me."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then at the very least I will share your burden. I feel somehow I am equally responsible, so I should know what it is we both did." She was so close, she could tell—he knew what happened, he could remember it all. If she just heard the events, she would regain her memory, she was sure of it. He had to tell her. He had to.

"It was me, General. I was the tech, it was my job, but I made the mistake, and it cost so much for so many."

"Stop talking in these half riddles, dammit!" Her voice rose in pitch as she slammed her fist on the console. The Remote chirped as if frightened and floated a bit away. "If you think you are protecting me by not telling me, well, you aren't. It doesn't help at all to be in denial. I was there at Malachor, I deserve to know what I did, what I was exiled for!"

"Very well, General," he said evenly. There was anguish in his eyes as he looked beyond her, into the past as he tried to decide where to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

Bao-Dur breathed deeply and paused. He then shook his head and began to speak, his voice calm, but laced with sorrow. "The Republic received intelligence about Mandalorian troop movements. They had regrouped after the last defeat, and it was believed that Mandalore's ship itself was part of the reformed fleet. Revan ordered the Republic to patrol in key areas in an attempt to herd the Mandies closer to the uninhabited space of Malachor V. We were ordered directly to the planet to install the Mass Shadow Generator I had developed."

"The what? This was not in any report," she said, startled by the information.

"It was a secret, a desperate effort to halt the war. It was risky and meant several of our own would be sacrificed. Only you, me, and of course Revan, knew."

"How could this be of any use, or as terrible as you say? Shadow generators just pull ships from hyperspace…"

"I was instructed to construct a unit capable of a gravity-well several times more powerful than that of an interdictor ship. The plan was to literally pull the Mandalorians from the sky and crash them into the planet. Malachor was the perfect spot—a barren waste at the edge of space. You yourself said the place seemed dead already, and the darkness was oppressive in the system."

"I did?"

"Yes, General. You said the surface of the planet was the worst place you had ever been, and you couldn't wait to get back to our ship."

She shuddered at the thought. "Almost as if it was destined to be a grave."

"You said something similar back then, General," he remarked, looking up at her. "That the planet seemed 'eager for the dead it would receive, as if it were calling out for them.' Do you remember that?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head. "No, sorry, please continue."

He blew out a sigh of sad resignation. "The rest of the ships in your command joined us the next day, and then others began to show up. It was clear we were gathering for a battle. The day before Revan and the rest of the troops were set to arrive, the Mandies attacked. It seemed they realized the plan and even though they were still rebuilding and recuperating from the last defeat, they outnumbered us, and we provided too tantalizing a target to pass up."

"What was the difference then? The Mass Shadow unit was set up on the surface, and with fewer allies placed in danger…"

"Didn't quite work out that way, General," he said sadly. "We were to contain the Mandies in the area with a solid perimeter at the edge of the effect radius. But we didn't have the unit strength to follow that plan, Revan was not there to direct the battle, and several of our ships were in harm's way, engaged in heavy fighting. You held off as long as you could, but the battle was not turning in our favor. You wanted to wait for as many ships as possible to get clear, but they couldn't retreat fast enough, and…I urged you to give the order before we lost the opportunity."

"That sounds like a wise choice. I was allowing my emotions to cloud judgment in this case. You knew what would happen to us, but felt for the greater good…"

"Our ship was clear of the area, General. We had maintained our position just outside of the generator's calculated effect radius." His head was down as he spoke. Remote silently floated nearby.

"Oh," she breathed, understanding all too well.

"But it didn't matter."

"The unit didn't work?"

"It worked too well, General. I miscalculated the power output, and the radius was thousands of units larger than I thought it would be. Everything was caught in the burst. The small fighters disintegrated upon contact; cruisers began to crush in on themselves and plummet to the surface; ships were colliding with each other, drawn together by the excess gravity, before losing orbit and racing towards the planet. Our ship rocked, the walls began to buckle, and then we started a slow nosedive."

"What was I doing during all this?"

"I'm not sure, General. I was trying to get the unit offline, and when I looked up, you were on the floor and you weren't moving. I could see blood trickling from your nose and ears. I left my post to get to you just as I saw a bright flash through the viewport: Malachor V had imploded, crushed in on itself from the pressure. The gravity well stopped instantly, but the shockwave from the destruction of the planet tossed the ship, and something hit me, pinning me to the wall. Next thing I knew, I was in the infirmary. The three horns grew back, but the arm never did."

She looked at the crown circling his head and almost asked which ones. She couldn't tell, and it didn't matter anyway. None of it did. Her memories had not even sparked, let alone ignited in full remembrance. But she had forced him to relive and retell it all, with no consideration for the consequences or his feelings. If events had unfolded as he claimed, she understood why he held himself accountable and wished to forget, as she had.

"I am sorry, Bao," she whispered.

"You still can't remember," he said flatly, disappointment coiling through his voice. Remote echoed its master's tone in a mournful string of chimes.

"I still don't blame you," she offered. "You were following orders. We all were."

"I would have pushed that button anyway, General. The Mandalorians deserved no less for what they had done to my homeworld. I was looking forward to it and I dragged you down with me, making you give the command. My anger and need for vengeance made me miscalculate. I wanted to punish them, don't you see? I made the shadow generator too strong and I ignored my mistake. I wanted them to suffer, and I didn't care who else got hurt." He looked at her, eyes dead, his expression devoid of any emotion. "I thought I had killed you, I never saw you again after the battle. My last image of you was on the command bridge, crumpled to the floor, bleeding and helpless. But then I heard…" His voice became small, vanishing in his throat. "I am the reason you were exiled, I am the reason you lost the Force."

"I shouldn't have made you go through this. I was thinking only of myself. You've worked so hard to overcome your anger and the war, and this brought it all back, for nothing." She placed her hand on his as she spoke.

The sensation was so intense, so instant, that she didn't even recognize it as pain. A blinding, searing spike ripped through her mind, firing at every nerve ending simultaneously. Thought and feeling raced to catch up, to make sense of what was happening. But she couldn't think, she couldn't move. She simply sat there, still, a scream echoing in her head, but nowhere else.

"General?" he asked cautiously.

Her eyes widened, her skin whitened. Her hand on his suddenly became cool and trembled slightly before slipping away. Blood trickled from her nose, deep red against pale skin. He caught her as she slumped forward, calling to her desperately.

"General!"

Her eyes snapped open. The sight before her was not a pretty one. Alarms and klaxons blared and buzzed, as if in competition with each other. Silver streaks across a black backdrop ended in bursts of yellow and orange, then nothingness. The battle was going badly. The Mandalorian ambush and the size of their fleet, not to mention their strength, were both a shock. It was all too clear this was a trap—for the Republic. Mandalore was nowhere in sight, and these ships were not damaged nor were the enemy rebuilding as the Republic brass were lead to believe. The allies were out numbered, out gunned, and out maneuvered. The plan to contain the Mandalorians within the shadow generator's effect never even got tested, and at this point she realized even if Revan and the rest had arrived, they still would not have had enough ships to deal with the onslaught.

"General! We have no choice!"

There was a bright flash near the view port, then the ship shuddered. She stumbled forward a half step, reaching to the back of the seat in front of her to regain her balance. The soldier seated at the controls turned. "We just lost the _Defiance_." The words were flat, eerily soft-spoken. Numb, she decided, he was numb. That was the seventh cruiser vessel lost.

"Now, General, give the command!"

She turned to look at the Zabrak tech at the other side of the bridge. His hand was poised over a small, covered switch. He stared at her, his emotions unreadable in the chaos, but the intensity of his tone was unmistakable.

"I've issued the order to retreat, Bao, we need to give them time!"

"We don't have time, General! The Mandalorians are moving out of range. We need to salvage what little advantage we have left!"

"We never had an advantage, Bao-Dur!" she nearly shrieked. Death rippled through the Force at her, a relentless barrage hammering at her, wearing her down, making it hard to concentrate. She turned back to the soldier seated at the controls in front of her "Why aren't we providing cover for them? The _Coruscanti_, there, help them! Fire, lieutenant, fire!"

"Sir, the Mandalorian gunships are past our weapon limits, we…"

The bridge of the _Coruscanti_ collapsed, and the ship began to list. Small explosions peppered across the hull as Mandalorian fighters buzzed around the dying vessel. Escape pods were picked off as soon as they launched.

"Those ships are doomed either way, General! The Mandalorians will not stop until every Republic ship is destroyed. The longer we wait, the further from the planet they get as they hunt us down." His voice was becoming hoarse as he yelled over the blaring sirens.

"Sir, the _Pathfinder_ is fallen…"

"General, issue the command…"

"Do it!" She heard her voice form the words, but she didn't remember saying them. She turned in time to see Bao flip a small switch, then press a button that emerged from the panel.

"No," he whispered, then repeated louder. "NO! The power, this read-out is wrong, it has to be!"

"What?" she turned back to the view port.

"Sir, what is happening?" the soldier asked. Fighters exploded seemingly without cause; ships began to tilt and draw closer, crashing into one another. Mandalorian and Republic alike were being crushed and pulled down towards the planet. Their own ship jolted upwards and to the side, as if buffeted by a wave. "Sir?"

She never heard him. She was on the floor, she knew that much, but little else. She didn't recall falling, she never felt the landing. The ship had shuddered and shifted under her feet, but at that same moment, blistering pain engulfed her. Her head was filled with white noise sizzling in every synapse. Mentally she struggled against the invasion, but the power of the intruder was overwhelming. Energy from the dark side of the Force had simply appeared; it surrounded her, entered her, snuffing out her connection to what little light had remained in this blighted sector. It felt as if the Force itself was being pulled from her, devoured, as something hungrily gnawed at her mind. She had never experienced anything this powerful; it seemed alive, seeking out the Force within her and ripping it away. As the Force left her, so did consciousness slip away. And then, just as it started, it stopped. The emptiness, the void she found herself in, was blissful relief, despite the confusion. She couldn't feel anything, or see, or hear. There was just nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

"General!"

_Something._

She heard a voice, a familiar one. She forced her eyes to open. A blurry image hovered over her. The taste of copper filled her mouth.

"General, are you alright?" The voice was wildly desperate and sounded helpless. She blinked and tried to focus.

"Bao-Dur," she said softly as his image sharpened. The nav room. She was on the _Hawk_.

"Can you sit up? What happened?"

She was sprawled out on the floor. She tried to sit up quickly and wavered a bit in the dizziness. Her head was still ringing.

"Easy, there, General. Here." He steadied her as she settled into a seated position and gently wiped her face with a cloth. When his hand pulled away, she saw blood. "I think I better get Kreia," he began.

"No, Bao…I remembered the battle. At Malachor. There was dark energy. Very dark," she said softly.

"Yes, General, you said so on the planet…"

"No, in space, on the ship, during the battle, when the shadow wave…" her eyes widened as it all clicked in her mind. "It wasn't you, Bao. The mistake on the generator. You didn't make one."

"General, please, calm down, let me get Kreia to help…"

"No, listen to me! There was a dark energy hidden in the signal from the shadow generator. It amplified the power so it could reach out as far as possible, to collect as many sentients as it could. Like I said—the planet seemed to be reaching out for the dead it would receive. It seemed alive, and hungry. It fed off the pain and destruction, consuming the Force released in the violence and death. There was something on that planet, Bao, something that used the generator for its own purpose. It wasn't you. You didn't miscalculate, you didn't make a mistake."

"You don't know how much I want to believe that, General."

"You think I am making this up to ease your conscience? Tell me, Bao, how did you think those circuits and wires you put together crippled me so badly? Did you think it sucked the Force right out of me?"

"No, I," he started, stung by her tone. "The destruction, so much death…"

"We were at war! I dealt with death every day, every damn moment of the day! When did we not lose some one, entire squads, whole ships? Think, Bao—we were being slaughtered in that battle long before you activated the shadow generator. Wouldn't I have collapsed from that loss of life?"

"That does make sense, General," he said slowly, a tiny sensation of hope and relief trickling through him.

"It was a dark power hidden in the energy signal—I felt it, I know that now, thanks to you," she smiled slightly. "I am sorry I tried to avoid you, Bao, my own cowardice, and Kreia's warning to stay away from you…I don't know why she would tell me that, she dismissed you outright, despite our common past. Why didn't she think you would help me remember?"

"Maybe she didn't want you to remember."

"Not remember this darkness that attacked me? That is what it was, Bao, make no mistake—that is the only thing that would affect a Jedi. What did it do to the other Force Users…?" She paused then focused on him. "Were there any Jedi survivors at Malachor other than me?"

"No, General, not that I know of. But I thought you had died too."

"I wonder…" she said as she concentrated. "There was an odd Sith at Peragus, badly scarred and pulsing with an energy I now recognize as the same from Malachor. He seemed to know me and somehow, I think I knew him…" Her thoughts began to drift as she searched her memory, trying to find something. All she managed to find were more holes.

"Are you sure, General?"

"What?" she asked, almost startled by his voice. She stared at him as if she hadn't quite heard him.

"Are you sure, General?"

"Positive…no one noticed you coming here," she said as the door slid shut behind her.

"Of course, no one ever notices me. I'm just the tech."

"Don't say that, BD! You're more than that to," she stopped herself, a bit of warmth starting to burn in her cheeks. She turned her head down, suddenly greatly interested in her saber hilt. "It's the party, everyone is preoccupied," she said. "_One way or another_," she added under her breath. It was difficult to block the emotions and images assaulting her through the Force. Her nervous fidgeting finally released the saber from its clip. At a loss as to what to do with it, she simply placed it on the small table next to her near the door.

"That party was a great idea, General," he offered. "Nothing like a pre-victory celebration."

"Everyone needed a distraction. The tension that was building…and once Revan gets here with the rest of the fleet tomorrow, there won't be an opportunity…" again she trailed. The strained attempt at small-talk fizzled miserably, replaced with a silence as awkward as the distance between them. She had barely moved from the threshold of the doorway and he remained riveted to the spot in the center of her quarters where she found him.

She cursed herself silently. They both knew why he was here, what was supposed to happen. But she just wasn't good at this sort of thing, and apparently neither was he. That made her heart flutter a bit, realizing he was as unsure as she was.

"They wouldn't be so concerned if they knew about our little surprise for those Mandies," he said. "They will get theirs, what they did to Iridonia," he nearly spat, then quickly calmed and changed his tone. "I can't tell you how glad I am that Revan and you are here to help."

"I'm glad you're here too, BD," she said, and again flushed. "The party was the least I could do for you guys. Besides, I wanted to get at least one chance to wear this insane dress uniform the Republic gave me!" She chuckled as she ran her finger under the stiff high collar. "This thing is so itchy. And ridiculously complicated."

"You look really nice in it." He seemed surprised by his own voice, then self consciously smoothed down his standard service fatigues.

"Thanks." She smiled at the small compliment, her heart speeding up just a little bit. "But really, it isn't worth it. This jacket could drive anyone to the Darkside!" She let out a nervous laugh as she worked at the frustrating clasps and unhooked the braid that crossed from her shoulder to the button near her neck. "If this is what it takes to look nice…"

"I think you look good in everything."

This time her heart skipped. She was uncomfortably aware of the crimson that traveled all the way to her ears. "I bet you say that to all the Jedi," she shot back teasingly.

"Not to Malak," he answered quickly and somewhat too seriously. Caught off guard, she laughed, a full attack of irresistible giggling that swept him into his own laughter.

"Can't fault you there," she managed between attempts to catch her breath. She was back to trying to remove the stubborn dress jacket, shrugging her shoulders aggressively, but the damn thing clung to her.

"Here, let me," Bao-Dur offered instinctively. Without a second thought he approached her as she turned her back to him in silent permission.

"Oh, thanks," she said as he eased the jacket off her shoulders. "Thought for sure I'd be trapped in…."

She sensed his spur of the moment decision a split second before she sensed his lips pressing lightly to her neck. Her breath caught in a small gasp, fire raced under her skin and a chill shivered down her spine to her knees. It took her a moment to recover, much longer than the quick peck had lasted. She felt the sleeves of the jacket pull away from her arms and she turned to face him.

"I didn't know if you'd be here," she said softly.

"I go where my General directs," he smiled, "be it by order or invitation." He blindly tossed the uniform at the table as he watched her loosen her hair and shake it out into a mesmerizing cascade that curled down to her shoulders. Her hair had been short when he first met her, and he didn't realize how much it had grown over the course of the war until now. As if in a trance, he reached out slowly, touching his fingertips experimentally into the thick waves. "So soft," he whispered.

He seemed innocently unaware of how intimate and sensual his touch was as his fingers continued to delicately comb through her hair. Her heart began to beat faster when her hand, nearly trembling, reached out to cup his cheek. Her thumb traced along the tattoo lines; she was surprised to find they were smooth and even with his skin. They had seemed so severe, as if they were scars engraved into his face, and she found herself relieved for some reason to know that was not the case.

His gaze shifted from the study of her hair to her face. Their eyes met, locked in a nervous stare. His fingers stopped their inquisitive roaming and cradled her in a firm hold as be began to lean closer. She sensed the same situation playing out all over the ship. Couples had paired off and vanished from the party all evening, and that constant barrage of emotion through the Force more than likely gave her the nerve and courage to slip him a passcard to her quarters as she shook hands with each member of her squad. Funny what people would do when they knew they would die soon.

His nervous excitement blended into and augmented her own, causing her pulse to race wildly. His approach was agonizingly slow; the small space between them seemed to stretch forever, so she took a half-step closer, placing her palm softly on his chest. There was a spike in his jittery emotions, timed with the small shiver when her hand made contact. Mixed in with his anxious anticipation was genuine desire and dizzy disbelief that he was actually there; but there was something more…a resolve and determination to prove himself worthy of her choice. Her breath caught and her heart lurched when she detected it, just as his lips pressed against her cheek, near the corner of her mouth. Slowly he brushed across her lips, ending with another light kiss on the other side.

They were tantalizingly close now; she wanted to feel him, all of him. She tilted her head back as he nuzzled past her jaw. His cheek caressed hers as he moved past, slowly pressing light kisses down the side of her neck and back up to her ear. Both his hands found their way to her waist and they slowly began to encircle her. She leaned into his embrace blindly, her head back, eyes closed and mouth open as a small sigh of satisfaction sounded from her. Longing almost to the point of agony flared through her, replacing her initial awkward caution. This was more than casual, more than basic want or need; she realized she wanted_ him_, and sensing the same desire towards her melted away the fear that kept her from admitting it. She didn't know when she had become attracted to him, but there was no use denying it now and she definitely didn't want to at this point. She turned her face towards him, kissing and nudging, her mouth hungrily searching for his.

They smashed together in a fierce kiss, lips and bodies colliding simultaneously. Her hands snaked up to his shoulders, then along his neck, past his ear, until her fingertips brushed against the swollen flesh at the base of a horn. He grunted and his arms pulled her tighter to him, coiling around her in a firm grip. She pressed to him, rubbing her body to his. His tongue pried through her lips to explore her mouth, then retreated, her own tongue following to do the same in return. Her fingers toyed randomly at the sensitive skin surrounding his horns, eliciting deeper moans and sighs from him each time.

She pressed harder into him, pushing him backwards towards the bunk. He stumbled a half step, then another, before realizing her intent. His hands tugged at her shirt while she worked the clasp of his belt, all the while maintaining their kiss. Having reached her bed, they fell to it together, entwined in a hungry embrace.

Afterwards, they lay together on the small bunk. She adjusted herself to lay comfortably across him. He was hot and slick with sweat, his heart was thumping hard enough for her to feel it through his skin, and somehow they seemed to fit together perfectly. She leaned her forehead to his and simply enjoyed the feel of him as they tried to catch their breath.

Her hair fell around his face, and again his fingers found their way into the thick waves. "I need to get this cut," she breathed as his hands continued to tangle and comb through her jumbled mane.

"I like it this way. It is…nice." There was a sense of awe in his voice.

She propped herself up enough to look at him. "This gizka nest is nothing special, it's the same as…"

"The Zabrak women of my village did not have hair like yours," he stated evenly.

She looked at him for a moment, realization dawning. "Bao, am I your first human…"

"I do not make it a habit of sleeping with," he paused, "my commanding officers."

She couldn't help but smile at his decorous attempt to avoid admitting what he felt was an embarrassing shortcoming on his part. He certainly had nothing to worry about, and it somehow made her even happier to know he hadn't done this with anyone else on the ship. "Well then, I'll have you know you are my first and only tech."

He smiled back. "Really, you seem rather naturally adept…I mean you know where to…uh…" he stammered, his cheeks darkening into a furious blush.

"Oh, you mean this?" she laughed as she fell back to him, her hands now brushing across each horn in a dizzying flurry. A deep moan rumbled from his throat as his eyes fluttered and his entire body quivered.

She stopped as quickly as she had started, and he sucked in a long breath, then laughed. He curled his arms around her and held her tight. "Keep that up and I might have to do something about it," he mockingly warned.

"I certainly hope so," she grinned and kissed him.

An alarm sounded from the hall startling them both. It took a moment to realize it was just the shift change toll. Bao-Dur began to lift her away from him, but she pressed down, pinning him back to the bed.

"Don't tell me you are on duty now," she said with irritation.

"No," he started, "but I figured, well, if I left now during the post switch, it would not look so out of place for me to be in the corridors so no one would notice where I was coming from."

"I don't care," she said quickly.

"General?"

"I don't care if they see you here." She smiled at him, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. "Stay."

"Are you sure, General?"

She blinked. His face was so close to hers, but different.

"I should go, Kreia will…"

"No, BD," she said, her hand darting out to hold his arm. His head snapped back to look at her, his eyes wide with surprise at the old nickname, his mouth falling open just a bit with an unasked question. She nodded and smiled, her hand moving to caress his cheek.

"Stay."


End file.
